makes the man, not his physique alone.

"Bully for Owen!" Thad could be heard muttering between his pants as he
raced along; "if that big coward strikes him, he's going to answer to
me for it, no matter what happens."

Now that was just what was passing through Hugh's mind at the same
moment. True, a social hop might be one of the last places in the wide
world for a boy to allow himself to be drawn into a brutal fight; but
if his hand were forced by Nick Lang everything else must be forgotten,
Hugh decided.

Somehow, he felt better after that. He could even think of his mother
without any burning regret and shame, for had she not impressed it upon
his mind years back that no matter how averse a boy may be to entering
a fist fight, when it is in defense of a girl, or a smaller lad, he is
perfectly justified in so doing, putting aside all his scruples, even
his sacred promise to his mother.

Matters were now getting pretty close to the breaking point. They
could hear Nick ranting as to what he ought to do to a fellow who
played him such a trick as to come between him and the girl he had
always taken to hops and singing school.

"Do you know what I got a good mind to do to you, sonny?" he roared,
and doubtless added emphasis to his words by shaking that big fist of
his under Owen's nose.

"I haven't the least idea," replied Owen, steadily enough, considering
that he must surely know sufficient concerning Nick's ways to